Black Cape, Black Hat by Jane Osborne                                                                                         

   “Bathsheba slumped wearily onto the golden velvet covered stool in front of her dressing table. Lifting her porcelain hands to the back of her head, her fingertips stretched as they gently unclasped the black pearl choker that encased her delicate birdlike throat.

   "She kicked off her satin slippers. They lay on their side on the carpet, trapped underneath her petticoats and the heavy red brocade of her ball gown.  The door opened discreetly behind her and she heard her maid come in.  She glanced up, looking into the dressing table mirror, expecting to see the reflection of gentle, neat Matilde. She heard her own sharp intake of breath. She could feel the tip of a knife between her shoulder blades and now a soft leather glove over her mouth.  Her last memory was hearing her own muffled cry as the knife pierced her creamy white skin. In the mirror she saw her contorted face and, standing behind her, a man in a black cape and hat.  When they found her in her room the next morning, the colour of her gown, the carpet and the blood pumping from her wound had all merged into one deep shade of crimson. The black pearls were gone and Matilde had been strangled in the little bedchamber next to that of her mistress.”

   “Oh that’s not a very nice story”

  “No, it’s not” said Amele looking down at his little cousin as she sat at his feet.

  “And the pearls were never found – legend has it that whoever finds the pearls will always be haunted by the spectre of the man in the black cape and hat."

 “Well, I don’t believe in that rubbish,” and with that Susannah jumped up playfully and said “Let’s go, Amele. I’m hungry. It must be teatime. Cake and cream, yum.”

  “Ok. Ok. But tomorrow we must do some sightseeing. There’s no point in being in Italy and not visiting the sights.” Amele sounded slightly irritated with her. “To-morrow we must go to the Leaning Tower.”  Susannah leapt up nearly wrenching the lace from the hem of her dress.

  “Yes, yes. Now I’ll race you down to the dining room.” And with that she shot up and ran out of the bedroom door past Amele to the top of the stairs.

   The next day was clear and crisp. With a perfect blue sky above them they set off by carriage to see the sights and finally arrived at their destination, the exquisitely beautiful leaning tower of Pisa.

  “Oh but  it is so strange to see it in the flesh, so to speak after all the drawings I have seen of it.” gasped Susannah.

“Shall we go in?” said Amele and he tapped on the side of the brougham.  The coachman brought it to a halt. Amele opened the carriage door and went down the steps. Turning, he held out his hand with a flourish helping Susannah to dismount. She let out excited little squeal.  The little man at the base of the tower took their lira and gave them their tickets. The door was held open by a sturdy square doorkeeper and they entered the funereal dark space, slowly making their way up the steps, one by one.

  “This isn’t quite what I was expecting at all. I thought it would be really light and airy but it’s got quite a most peculiar atmosphere.” The sound of their footsteps reverberated eerily round the tower.

  “How strange! I was sure I saw some other tourists who came in just before us. But I don’t hear or see anyone now,” murmured Amele to himself.  They must have walked up at least three flights of stairs, made all the more difficult to traverse because of the famously pronounced incline of the tower. When they reached the first window it afforded them a superb view of the gardens set out below and the vista of ancient Pisa itself, with its red roofed town houses, balconies overflowing with spring flowers and busy winding streets.

 Amele was in his own reverie, looking directly out of the tower and down onto the sandy gravel path below when out of the corner of his eye he saw the rear view of a man in a frightful hurry marching, almost running through the serrated rows of lavender and rosemary. Although it was spring it was still pleasantly warm and it was the temperature that drew Amele’s attention to the receding figure. For he was clothed from head to foot in a long billowing black cape, and he wore a wide brimmed black hat.

Picture: cosmos.com